I had to go by my mechanics shop the other morning. When I stepped out of the truck, a smell hit me ... one that I hadn’t encountered in a long time.
My dad and uncle once owned a garage. They worked on all types of vehicles and did wreaker service also.
That morning, the smell of antifreeze, oil, oily rags and such slammed me in the face. I hadn’t smelled that since my dads garage. It brought a tear to my eye and I had to stop and gather myself. I lost dad in ‘96 and my uncle a few years later. I sure miss them.
Anyone else ever run into something that bring back good memories ??

lost my dad in 1974 he was a milkman everytime I open the milk cooler at the grocery store it smells just like the back of his old milk truck did when I road with him as a kid. brings it back for sure !

That fresh "salty air" smell when I go to the coast. My Dad used to love going down to Texas City and doing some flounder fishing. Even when we go down to visit friends that smell make me think of him.

I had to go by my mechanics shop the other morning. When I stepped out of the truck, a smell hit me ... one that I hadn’t encountered in a long time.
My dad and uncle once owned a garage. They worked on all types of vehicles and did wreaker service also.
That morning, the smell of antifreeze, oil, oily rags and such slammed me in the face. I hadn’t smelled that since my dads garage. It brought a tear to my eye and I had to stop and gather myself. I lost dad in ‘96 and my uncle a few years later. I sure miss them.
Anyone else ever run into something that bring back good memories ??

My dad has been a cadillac mechanic for at least 38 years and his uniform always smelled like the shop. On weekends he would work on side jobs in the garage at the house and I would help by getting tools or a cold beer. I know the smell you are talking about VERY well.

Burning trash takes me back.. Reminds me of my grandparents that I was very close to.. They didn't have much if any money but they taught me many valuable life lessons.. I practically lived with my grandparents in the 60's and 70's and my job was to burn the household trash in the burn barrels.. Every now in then I'll smell trash burning and the flow of memories begin...

I have a old Filson upland hunting coat my dad probably bought around 1970. It holds smells that take me back. It still smells like spent shotgun shells and the vague musty scent of quail. Brings back deeply meaningful memories

I'm lucky to still have my dad with me. Now I just gotta convince him to let me pay for a few fun trips thst we couldn't do when i was younger, for us and now my son. Everytime I work on the cars i think of just sitting in the garage with dad and think of all the things I want my son to know and do.

not a smell, but sitting up in a tree takes me back to my hunts with my son. He loved setting up in a tree to hunt. He liked the trees in Arkansas so he could get high up. Every time I set in a tree, it brings back memories of him. I guess it could be the smell of those pine trees but even though its good memories, sitting in a tree now still brings a tear.

An old elementary school. My dad was a teacher and then an Elementary school principal. The smell of the book room, the cafeteria, the gym. All of them bring the memories. He’s been gone 20 years now but I’m instantly transported back in time when I crack open an old text book and smell the dusty old pages. Sure do miss him.

The smell of the fresh dirt from me and grandad tilling up the garden. The sound of the icecream maker being turned, the smell of the outboard early in the morning, or the smell of that single shot .410 on a crisp October morning. Naw, I hardly notice....

I was lucky enough to grow up with two different men I called "Dad". My stepdad was a sailor and the smell of his uniform and sea bag was very distinctive and hard to replicate. But it's a smell I will never forget. When I have come across it, it immediately takes me back to being a young boy anxiously waiting for him on the dock to get off the submarine after being gone to "sea" for months on end.

My Pawpaw smoked a pipe. Sometimes I will smell one that takes me back to when I was a kid

My dad smoked a pipe as well. Don't smell it very often but when I do it's an instant trigger. I usually smell a few freshly spent shotgun shells. They remind me of riding around on his shoulders while he was hunting rabbits

There's a few smells like that for me. 2-stroke exhaust is a big one. That shop/oil/diesel/welding smell, mixed with cigarettes also. I smoked a bit after HS, but even now all these years later, I still get the urge to smoke while fishing and sitting on a deer stand. Kinda funny.

Another smell that I'd completely forgotten about... sweet gum tree. There was a certain smell at my grandmothers house, that I'd always thought was the creek behind her house in the hill country. Then one day it hit me as I was walking through Downtown Houston and all of that came flooding in(this was the year my grandmother died). Took me a few minutes, but figured out the smell was due to the sweetgum trees next to the entrance to the building.

Dad smoked a pipe on occasion and the smell of Sir Walter Raleigh always takes me to him in my mind. The other thing is every dove season dad would smell the hull of the first shot he took. Thought it was odd when I was a kid but I now do it every time. The smell of that hot plastic and burnt powder instantly brings dad to my side in the field. He and I have hunted together more times than I can count since he passed in 86.

Grocery stores smell different today than they did when I started working in them in 1975. I spent 31 years in them and every now and then I can go into an old store in a small town that hasn`t been updated and still has old fixtures and the smell reminds me of when I was 16 and sacking groceries.

It's very rare that this happens, mostly because I'm not around too many smokers and those I am around don't smoke Lark...but let me catch a whif of a Lark cigarette, it has a distinctive smell me, and I'm automatically in a 14' jon boat on the Trinity River with my grandpa.

The smell of soured corn and wood smoke reminds me of my paternal grandpa. My maternal grandpa owned a gas station and shop, I worked there before I enlisted. The smell of fresh gasoline or new tires remind of the days. I remember when premium gasoline went up to .69 cents a gallon and a lady pulled up to the pump, she asked me how much premium was and I told her .69 cents and she said she would NEVER pay that much for gas and drove off.

It's very rare that this happens, mostly because I'm not around too many smokers and those I am around don't smoke Lark...but let me catch a whif of a Lark cigarette, it has a distinctive smell me, and I'm automatically in a 14' jon boat on the Trinity River with my grandpa.

My dad dipped Skoal or smoked unfiltered Camels, and the smell of a zippo lighter and a fresh lit cigarette does the same.